My Little Girl
by Starbucks3894
Summary: Very short, and to the point. A little sad, so be wary. An alternate take on the early upbringing of our favorite crazy brunette.


**This is something I wrote a long time ago, and I don't know terribly why I'm putting it up. A reverse take on a certain quirky brunette's early childhood. Don't hate me for it. XD**

What should I do, when I can't breathe? And it's all your fault for being so beautiful.

What can I say, when you're so close to me, and I feel like I could fly?

when you become me inside you, and all I can do is wonder why I was ever good enough.

When you do anything at all, your laugh, your smile, anything about you, melts a heart that has never loved.

How could I have come across you, standing there, in the rain, looking like the most beautiful thing, I'd ever seen? But not being able to know you right away, it was torture.

I felt like I loved you from that moment. Like you had always been mine. And I had always been yours.

Or at least, my heart had been.

What should I be feeling? When you tell me we had never been anything at all.

Should I just move on? Tell you that I'm happy for you, and watch you walk away with another guys arm around you.

Because I can't. I always did love you. Don't think that will ever change.

I didn't know whether I could stand to show you my tears when you told me you were pregnant. With his child.

And now, as you call me from that delivery room, with tears and shallow breaths choking your voice, and tell me that he's left you all alone, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

But I know I wished I could have gone with you. When you were taken away from me.

You died in my arms. With your daughter's cries ringing through your mind.

They all said you were too young. Sixteen is much too young. But I knew it had never really been your fault.

I just know, if you had stayed with me, you'd still be alive.

With me and Camille.

I didn't want to give her away to some orphanage. She was so precious to me, the last thing I had to remember you by.

For five years, till I was twenty-one, she was my daughter. And people thought it was so odd. That the young father should have kept her, while the mother bailed. I never told them she's not really mine.

But she was my whole world, the thing I lived for, with you gone. I loved for her sweet smile, and her odd habits. I loved her for her life-long dream, and making it a reality. To be an actress. She always was a little more ambitious than you. I think you would have liked her though.

I promised her we'd buy a house someday. A house next to the Hollywood sign, so she could wake up to it every morning.

She never did like fairy tales. She would fall asleep with me telling her all the strange stories of that city of lights, a city I had never even seen.

It seems so much like a dream now. The best dream of my life.

I don't think I could have ever loved that little girl more.

I wished I could have killed him, when he came up me, demanding Camille. Demanding all rights to her. As her biological father.

He hadn't even been there! He hadn't been there to see you, her mother, die that night! He hadn't been there to hold your hand, or raise your daughter. He hadn't been there for you at all.

But he took her, no matter how much she cried.

I can't sleep at night. When I think of how young you were, my angel Camille. And your daughter, my little girl, who bears your name.

I heard he died in some freak accident. And his young fiance took my baby, and made her her own.

I know now, that's the woman she calls mom. And the man she calls dad will always be a coward. Who got exactly what was coming to him.

She would be sixteen now, her birthday in three months, two weeks, three days, ten hours, and thirty-six minutes.

I don't know how I found her here.

She looks so beautiful. All grown up. She's not chubby anymore.

What should I do?

I don't know if I should call out to her. I see her there, with some boy who's holding her hand. They look happy. He's making her laugh.

I wonder if he feels the same way about her that I felt about you?

I don't know why I'm standing here, on unfamiliar land, not even sure which way is home. She's not even mine. I should just move on...

But, oh, she looks so much like you. I wish she were mine. I love her so much.

There's her "mom" now I suppose. She has almost the same hair. They're nothing like the exact replicas you two would've been, though.

So I stand there, and wonder how long I'm going to stay in L.A., hoping to summon the courage to talk to her, tell her where those first five devoted years of her life had gone. Tell her any memories she had about them, were a lie! To tell her how much I had wanted to be her dad.

No matter I knew she would never believe me.

They're all laughing now. I could cry. But I don't. I turn around and walk the other way. And I don't look back. And I try not to think of my little girl.

**I hope this wasn't too bad. Started off as something completely non-Big Time Rush, but then it evolved. XD Hope you review, and tell me what you thought.**

**And yes. I know. It's short.  
**

**xoxo**

**~Starbucks**


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